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Posts tagged ‘tease and denial’

Yeah, but what about the sex?

“You might get into the voting booth, but you won’t be casting a ballot.”

That’s what my Belle Fille said to me this morning as I suckled her breast and fingered her snatch. She had let me out Friday night so the penis was perky and expectational.

But I jump ahead. It occurs to me that I haven’t posted much about our sex life recently, so I’m going to play catch up now.

About midway through January, Belle let me come. I had just been let out for “cleaning and maintenance” and she was going to tease me with a hand job. The hand job started and I was rapidly taken to the edge and she just never stopped. It wasn’t an accident. She wanted me to come. Then she wanted me to put the Steelheart back on. I wasn’t even out for half the day, but I did get cleaned out.

The next weekend, she treated me to two of her orgasms, one brought about with my fingers and the other with my mouth. Both left me hot and bothered since the one orgasm didn’t lessen my desire too much. If anything, it left it somewhat sharper.

Then she got sick. Stomach thing. Not fun. But I whined on Friday and she, in her weakened condition, let me out. Two uninterrupted nights of sleeping followed by a lazy Sunday morning adventure in bed.

So, as I was saying, I was fingering her and sucking her tits and generally enjoying her body and the penis was very pert and attentive beside her. After she came, she invited me in for the first time this year and I leapt at the opportunity. I had the heavy barbell in the PA and could feel it move  and turn in the piercing as the end of the penis came almost all the way out and then as deep as it could back in. I fucked her not like the frustrated lizard I used to be, but like the tamed bunny I am. Gently and gratefully. Enjoying the exquisite sensations of the folds of her pussy caressing the penis shaft, but not forgetting that this was a gift from her to me. It’s different when I know I can come. Then the lizard takes over. But this was not that. So I kissed her mouth and cradled her head and fucked her like I could break her if I got too carried away.

“That’s it, Thumper. Time to come out.” How long had that been? No idea. God, I wanted to come. Fuck, I wanted to stay inside her.

I thanked her and embraced her and flexed the denied penis one more time while it was still surrounded by her. Then I withdrew and fell back beside her. The penis, still thick with desire and slick from her juices, slapped wetly agains my leg. I gripped it. Squeezed it. Pushed my baser instincts back into their cave.

“I want you back in by the end of the day.”

And so I am.

December’s come, I haven’t

You may have noticed that the entire world is now in the month of December. Even here, it’s definitely the 12th month of the year. The month in which I will have an orgasm after more than three without.

In not unrelated news, it’s remarkable to me how long I can jack off now and not come. I have become amazingly well tuned to the stages of orgasm and know within a hair’s breadth where I am from actually going over the falls and squirting all over, how long to let it chill before going back in for more, and when even breathing on the head will cause an eruption. Also, that I can essentially walk away from it even though I’m thoroughly juiced, primed, and ready to blow. “Oh, look at the time.”

The other morning, I was looking down at the penis, all greased up and nestled into my fist, and could practically see it begging me with it’s silly sideways mouth. Sometimes, jacking off is just a thing you do to another thing for a particular purpose, but other times there’s this circuit made between the cock, your hand, and your brain and they become one functioning, pumping unit looping feedback between one another. That’s what it felt like when it looked like it was begging. “Pleeeeeease!?” it seemed to be asking. But no. I was going to abide by the rules.

Perhaps Belle could sense how close it and I have become lately because last night she laid down the law. First of all, when I come, it will be in her. She wants to catch it all. Oh, and by the way, she’s on her period, so no, it won’t be for a few days. Also, I’m to stop touching the penis. No more yankie the wankie until after she says it’s time for me to come. Regarding that timing, she jets off again in a few days, so the window of opportunity will be small before then. If I have to wait until she get’s back, then it’s about a week from now. If she leaves on the trip without allowing me to come, I will beg to be locked up.

The double cock ring continues to be on me and, indeed, feels to be just as much a part of my body as the Steelheart can at times. I’ve found that the inside of the penis ring is not smooth like the rest of the device. It’s rough and somewhat unfinished feeling. Not sure if there’s a way to polish it up, but I may try and find out. It’s not a problem, but I can feel it and it bugs. Other than that, I have no complaints. Sleeping, by the way, is cake. If I happen to wake up with an erection, I can feel it filling the rings, but it doesn’t wake me up by itself.

Well, that’s about all I got. Today is ninety-eight days. Tomorrow, ninety-nine. Almost there. I hope.

Rubbed raw

Today is thirteen weeks, four days since the Unfortunate Incident. AKA, ninety-five days since my last orgasm (and officially over my previous record).

The earliest I’ll be allowed to come is day after tomorrow: December 1. However, knowing my Belle like I do, I’d bet she’ll make me wait until the weekend. Saturday will be 99 days. Will she make me wait until Sunday for the even 100? Will she allow me to be out of the Steelheart until then? As I mentioned yesterday, she let me out of the tube on Saturday. Since then, I’ve literally rubbed the penis raw in frustration. Is it any wonder I prefer to be locked up? Do you have any idea how long it takes me to get out of the bathroom in the morning like this?

As an aside, I may need to come up with a better term then “locked up” since the double cock ring also has a lock, the key to which is not in my possession. I am, technically, still locked up, but not at all in the way I am in the chastity device. 

Speaking of rubbing, the new Steelworxx double cock ring (DCR) has forced me to modify my technique. As I pointed out yesterday, when fully erect, the skin on the penis isn’t as loose with the DCR in place. Based on my own first-hand experience with other erect male penises, the skin on “mine” is relatively pliable. I hardly ever have had to use lubrication when jerking off. One guy I know with a particularly fine specimen had to lubricate. When he was hard, it was all monolithic and tight (and so wonderfully hefty). I have always suspected this difference was due to how our individual circumcisions took place (i.e., how much did the doc cut off), but I’ve never been with an uncut guy to verify.

But I digress. My point is, the rings keep things tight down there and that’s partly why I’m raw. I didn’t use enough lube. The other factor is how the skin on the shaft seems to get more sensitive after it’s been locked away for a long time. The other other factor is overuse. Plain, simple self-abuse. Having not been told by Belle not to do it, I have been indulging myself repeatedly.

Besides that, the other new wrinkle the DCR has added to my style is how it’s effectively reduced the length of the penis’ shaft. The penis, as I’ve said here before, is, when fully hard, a perfectly average 5 5/8″ long. The DCR takes about an inch of pullable meat away. Then, on the other end, is the PA ring which can be tricky to masturbate over. Typically, I rub up to it and let my fingers open so they go around. Too much pushing and pulling on the ring can make the hole sore. Take that into account and I’m left with less than four inches of beatable meat. My palm is about 3.5″ across. You see my predicament.

Which, of course, I like. I am, technically, free. And in December, I’ll be even freer since Belle has said I’ll be able to come whenever I want. But the DCR complicates that a bit. I can jack off but it’s awkward. I can get pleasure, but there are still some boundaries and issues. I’m all about boundaries and issues.

I’ll close this post by thanking Tom for the nice call-out the other day on his blog:

Thumper is one of the few — very few — “chastity blogs” that has managed to stay fresh and interesting. I don’t always agree with him; hell, I don’t even always understand him. But there’s no question that Thumper is writing from a special, deep place, and you simply can’t doubt his honesty and emotional openness.

At first I was like, “Aw, that’s nice,” and then I was all, “Wait, doesn’t always agree with me?” and then, “Doesn’t understand me!?” before thinking, “Am I disagreeable? Am I that weird!?” Which, of course, is one of the things about me I’m sure Tom doesn’t understand. In any event, I truly appreciate the props. I’ll do my best not to obsess over the agreeing and understanding bits. As I said…boundaries and issues. That’s me.

Say hello to my little friend

Belle let me out on Saturday. The idea was she was going to have me put lidocaine on the penis so she could fuck it without having to worry about me enjoying it too much. But then one kid had a friend over and other went to a party with a bunch of other preteens and needed to get picked up at 10:30 and, the next thing you know, she’s asleep and I’m all drowsy with a totally numb wiener.

Next night didn’t work because (duh), football (she’s the fan, not me) and then it was Monday and yet another football game (and besides, it goes without saying that Monday is not the night anyone has sex) and now it’s Tuesday and she’s at work dinner thing and, well, so it goes. All the while I’ve had to deal with a free penis. Like, four whole days. This is excruciatingly difficult for me since, as they say, the flesh is weak. It’s especially weak 82 days since it last had an orgasm. I usually get my mornings to myself and yesterday the penis and I had a pretty good time (check back on HNThursday). Too good a time, actually, and I eventually covered it in the handy lidocaine so it’d stop bothering me. This morning, I went right for the stuff and slathered it all over to help blunt the distraction. Belle said something about needing to lock me back up soon, but I don’t know when that’s going to happen.

What I do know is I’m only about two and half weeks from an orgasm and a promised “break” in which I’ll get to come whenever I want for a while. I’m fixated on this. Whenever I think about the penis or get turned on by Belle or whatever, my mind goes straight to how it’ll feel to finally get to have an orgasm. And not just one. As many as I like, apparently. It sounds ridiculously indulgent, even as I write it out. As many as I like. Imagine getting to sit down as soon as you’re done trick-or-treating and eat the whole damn bag of candy. That’s what this impeding spurtathon feels like to me.

Several weeks ago, I ordered a double cock ring from Steelworxx. I just got notification today that it’s been shipped which means it should get here right in time. I bought it because, the truth is, I just don’t like how it feels not to have anything at all around the penis. Totally natural feels unnatural now. I also like that it locks and even if I get to do with the penis whatever I want, Belle can still hold my key. That’s important to me.

Creamery

Belle let me out of my confinement last Wednesday night in anticipation of our family trip to New York the following day. I had been encased for two solid weeks at that point, but I didn’t get much chance to enjoy my freedom since we were up late packing and the alarm went off in the wee hours of the next day so we could catch our flight. Then, three nights with the four of us in a Manhattan hotel room didn’t exactly lend itself to any penis play time.

But that’s not to say I didn’t get something out of it. Like any great city, New York is all about walking. Having not seen the light of day for so long left the head of the penis extraordinarily sensitive. As I’d walk, the motion would cause the penis to move against the fabric inside my pants and I’d find myself very distracted. What’s more, I’d eventually develop a raging boner, all from nothing more than incidental contact with my clothing.

We got home very late Sunday night and Belle told me I’d go in the next night. Monday morning, I found myself edging in the shower. It’s been two months since I came and I’m too weak to keep my hands off when I have the opportunity. Getting out of the shower, I decided to conduct an experiment that would provide me with practical information and make sure I didn’t spill any seed.

I’ve played around with lidocaine cream in the past and found it to be a really good way to temporarily deny myself the ability to orgasm even without a device in place. Recently, I’ve read several accounts of men in my position who’ve used it to allow their partners full penetrative sex while removing worry that it’d make them come (like this one). I told Belle this and she seemed somewhat interested in the idea since the most limiting factor of my denial is her enjoyment of riding the erect penis. Also, I have felt guilt in the past in not being able to give her this activity that she likes so much.

So, I bought a new tube of the stuff, this time at a 5% strength versus the 4% cream I’ve used in the past. What I wanted to find out was A) how long would it take before the penis was numb enough to safely use, and B) what parts of the penis could I leave with sensation and still not be concerned with orgasm?

First off, this stuff ain’t cheap. I got a 2 ounce tube (this one, marketed as an anorectal cream – sexy!) and paid $50. I don’t recall how much the 4% cream I got last time was (and I can’t find it on Amazon any more), but it wasn’t anything like that much. The 5% version is more expensive, but I figured it’d also be 20% faster/longer lasting. Good news is, it doesn’t take much of the stuff to do the job so we should be able to get many session from the one tube.

The reason I wanted to know how long it took for numbness to set in is, of course, I don’t want to leave Belle waiting. Plus, I wanted to know how much advance planning it’d take to use. Turns out, I was sufficiently sedated after about 10-12 minutes (which is a bit faster than the 4% cream). I could still feel a little, but not enough to come. I applied it only on the head and maybe 30% of the end of the shaft, making sure to use the PA ring to get it down inside the urethra, too. I left some of the shaft with sensation since I’m worried that total lack of penile feeling would make keeping an erection difficult. Interestingly, once it had taken affect, the penis felt warmer than it had before. I assume this is because its skin couldn’t feel the air around it anymore. In any event, that was my clue that it was ready to try. I washed the remaining cream off and towel-dried the meat.

I jacked off pretty intensely for about 10 minutes. For most of that time, I had the sensation of wanting to come (my nuts even drew up as if I was about to), but I could never quite get there. It was like having a sneeze ready to come out, but never being able to get it out. I could feel the lower half of the penis pretty good, so my brain knew what was happening, but all the nerve endings in the business end were silent. After maybe 15 minutes, I started to feel like an orgasm was about to happen and I found myself edging again, even with a mostly numb dick. Unlike last time I tried this, there still was sensation in part of the shaft and that seemed to be enough after a long while to move the internal machinery in place. Next time, I’ll make sure to apply the cream further down the bottom of the shaft as feeling in that area seems to be integral in achieving orgasm even when the head has none. Also, if I have the time, I might also apply a second coat.

I think Belle wanted to have sex last night, but it was not to be. She told me I could stay out one more day, but I find being unprotected to be maddeningly distracting. Especially after two months with at least one more to go. Based on that, she allowed me to lock myself back up. After she fell asleep, I did (though not before giving the penis one last round of wanking). If she wants to use it tonight (or whenever), I can get it out quickly enough. If she gives me 15 minutes of warning, I can even make it safely fuckable.

I woke up at 5:00 AM for the first time in days with the incredible pressure of a secured erection. It was intense, as always, but not in a way bad. The discomfort was actually comforting. It’s a feeling only a happily denied man can appreciate, to be sure. The feeling of not being tempted by the annoying penis and there being zero chance of accidentally squirting. It felt safe and secure and perfectly natural.

The one with the urine in it

I was supposed to be out last weekend. Belle had said I would be, but it didn’t work out that way.

The plan was for the family to go camping with another family we’re friends with at a local state park. Not real camping since there would be electricity and a bathroom nearby (with real running water), plus about a hundred other people in neighboring campsites. Not at all like I’m used to. But, in a tent with a fire so it would kinda sorta feel like camping. Earlier in the week, though, Belle had returned from a business trip with a cold that did nothing but get worse until Friday rolled around so it was just the boy and I who went.

The Steelheart came along, too. Belle had forgotten about it. There were several times I thought to say something, but I never got around to mentioning it to her. So I was still locked (as I have been for two straight weeks). I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to do about it. It wasn’t like being in the device would get in the way of any of the activities we were doing and it was only for two nights. My biggest concern was one of hygiene. Turns out there were hot showers there for the “campers” so Saturday morning I was in there swishing myself clean. Well, cleanish.

I observed something interesting, though. As any guy who is often locked up knows, it’s not always spring fresh down there. And what I’ve discovered is how long it’s been since a good cleaning isn’t necessarily a correlating factor to how it smells. Urine is, after all, distilled continuously and from constantly varying sources. Sometimes, it’s apparently odorless and not unlike hot water while at other times it’s not (as in the morning, for example). What I found was, as contrary to common sense as this may sound, peeing is one way to freshen up one’s steel tube, especially if it’s done after recently drinking a lot of fluid.

So anyway, I came back in reasonable working order and have been feeling pretty randy since Belle has recovered from her illness. She very subtly drove me crazy a few nights ago night by stroking my head and resting her hand on the device, finger tips brushing lightly against my tight scrotum. The next morning, we had some aggressive snuggling that left me feeling a little light-headed. I’m pushing eight weeks since my last orgasm and have only been out of the device for maybe 7-10 days total. I’m minimally seven weeks away from my next orgasm, though it’s hard to say since I’ve only been told “Decemeber”. It could be longer than that.

Anyway, I was moderately turned on this morning but not as frothed up as I can be. So I was surprised to find that I had passed quite a lot of thick, ropey white goo during my morning leak. Not only that, but I kept leaking all morning long, even after my shower. That slick n’ slippery stuff just kept drip, drip, dripping out of me. Plus, I have to say, my nuts felt absolutely massive to me. Fat and swollen as I groped them in frustration.

Last night, she finally let me get her off. Her pussy was so wet and so hot that just touching it made me moan. It’s remarkable how just feeling her there can electrify me. In the past, it was just a junction to get past before inserting the penis. Now, I crave just that. When she came, I had two fingers in and felt the post-orgasmic spasms perfectly. For me, more moaning and an overwhelming desire to bite something. For her, bliss.

Once we had settled down to sleep, me spooning into her from behind, she rapped her knuckle against the device which was at about the same spot as her hand.

“I just love that steel tube,” she said.

*wimper*

By the light of the sun

It’s been bad sleeping the past few nights. I have a hard time getting to sleep (or even feeling sleepy), then have a hard time staying asleep, then have to deal with insistent erections from about 4:00 AM on that wake me up. I have a few tricks to make them go away, but the most efective is to get up and pee. So anyway, crappy sleep. Occupational hazard of the chronically denied.

Belle and I woke up at about the same time this morning as dazzling sunlight poured through our window. The device was, as usual, very tight as the penis within was doing its stupid best to get as long and as hard as it could. I whined to Belle about it. She didn’t seem too impressed, but closed the bedroom door so I could get her off. To me, it felt like a quick, hard fuck. I didn’t linger or draw it out. I got her off as fast as I could. As if the faster she came, the better I’d feel or something. But once it was over, I was in even more misery. The penis was throbbing against it’s confinement.

I whined again. This time, about how I wanted to be inside her. Yes, it was lobbying, but I do that from time to time and it’s seldom successful. But this time, she seemed moved by my predicament and got the key.

“You can go for a ride,” she said, “but you can’t come.”

I frantically fumbled with the key in the lock. The penis had subsided just a bit and I had a very short window of opportunity to get the whole thing off before it responded to its new opportunity.

“Don’t get hard, don’t get hard,” I repeated under my breath.

I got the tube off and the PA fixing out of the way, but was too far gone to get past the ring. I was either going in with it on or would have to wait god knows how long before the hydraulics would allow it to be removed. Time was of the fucking essence. Her pussy was right there, all wet, hot and inviting. Somewhere in our house were children who would soon be demanding our attention. Even the dog was antsy.

Fuck it, I thought. I mounted her and pushed the stiff penis home. It felt, in a word, glorious. The cuff ring is too small to wear absent the tube which helps keep the penis from achieving its full erect girth. When it’s not there, the ring bites even more than usual. In my mind, I could see the penis with its veins all standing out and the head deeply red and swollen from the constriction at its base. It felt weird. Not bad, but different. As if I was fucking with someone else’s cock.

After a few minutes of this, the reptile brain took charge and told me to bite Belle. Of course, that’s not allowed, but I wanted to do it badly. I wanted to totally destroy her with this miraculous wonder boner and chew on her face. It was as if my brain was being doused by a fire hose spraying pure testosterone. All semblances of submissive bunny were swept away.

I growled into her ear, ”I just love fucking you,” thrust, “so,” thrust, “much!” THRUST.

As I said, the sun was pouring in and Summer is making a last stand here in the Great North, so I was soon getting sweaty with my effort. I felt my forehead bead over and the sweat lubricate our grinding thighs. I kicked the blanket back and my pumping ass was exposed. Even it was sweaty. I felt like a rutting animal. The only human thought left in my head was DON’T COME.

The ring around the penis was becoming insistent in its biting. I would withdraw completely so just the tip of the head was surrounded by sweet pink pussy, then I’d thrust balls-deep, feeling the pain of the ring, the smooth, wet action along the swollen shaft from the folds of her labia clinging and caressing, the throbbing head going deep inside her, my mouth open on hers.

Holy FUCK! I got really, really close. Really. Imagine a beer commercial where they show the bottle tipping in slow motion and the golden fluid cresting over the edge about to pour into a frosty mug, except substitute the bottle for the penis, the beer for my ejaculate, and the frosty mug for Belle’s hot pussy. Then freeze the shot as the beer has just peeked over the edge. Leave it there for ten to fifteen seconds, then roll the footage backward. That was me, heart pounding, head swirling as she said, “I think that’s it, Thumpy.”

Pause. Think. Grind teeth. Flex the penis in her pussy.

Stop.

“Yes, Belle Fille.” And I withdrew.

The penis looked just like I thought it would. Swollen and purplish, glistening with her lube. The ring deeply embedded in the base of the penis shaft. It stood there and throbbed.

“You can stay out until tonight, but then you’re going back in.”

I pulled up my underwear and took the few bits of the device I could get off into the bathroom for a good cleaning. I scrubbed out the tube and, using cold water, cleaned the penis. It was still 80% hard and the corona of the head was massively sensitive. Chilly water or no, it wasn’t going down. And I knew, were it to be left out all day, I’d be messing with it every chance I got. With lots of work and more cold water, I shoved the genie back into the bottle. The lock closed with difficulty as the penis continued its futile effort, stuffed back into the dark cold tube.

I left the bathroom and put the key on Belle’s nightstand. I went to her in the kitchen and put her hand on my crotch.

“I’m not to be trusted,” I said as I buried my face in her neck.

Wedge relief

Belle finally wanted some action this morning. We were laying in bed being lazy and she said those magic words.

Just in time, too. The continued absence of my ability to pleasure her was starting to eat away at me. It actually seemed like a physical thing wedged between us. I will say it for the hundredth time, if I can’t turn my sexual energy towards myself, then I need to put it somewhere. If she’s unavailable, then it all curdles inside and I get grumpy and depressed. There just isn’t enough of that frisson I was talking about the other day to keep my furnaces stoked from being denied both my own pleasure and hers. She played it as best she could, but a few more days of it and I would have gone south big time. Even though I felt very far away from wanting to do it at the moment she said I could, it was seconds before all the boards lit up across my body. I did so desperately want her.

I tried to savor the opportunity and go as slowly as possible. While playing with her nipples, I climbed up on top of her and pressed the steel against her pussy. All around I could feel it’s heat but not on the penis itself locked away in the sensory deprivation chamber. I reached down and rubbed the short hard tube in and around her lips like I used to do in the old days before it was between us, but could feel nothing whatsoever where it counted. The sensation of feeling my thighs inside hers, my stomach on hers, my chest against her breasts and the taste of her mouth in mine all at the same time caused a strong pang of loss to erupt in my groins. I wanted in her so bad. I wanted the penis to feel hot and wet. I wanted to fuck like it was still a cock.

I got lost in the moment and Belle had to remind me what the point of the exercise was. Regretfully and with great effort, I moved down until my face was buried between her legs. I lapped and sucked like a starving man until she came with such intensity that she pushed my face away so I didn’t get to feel the orgasm flash through her pussy with my tongue. As she basked, I laid my face right inside her wet pubs and breathed in the singular scent of a woman. When it was time to go, I anointed myself with her pheromones. I could still catch little whiffs up until the time I showered.

Different goals

Pain, Pleasure and Denial is a newish chastity and denial blog I only recently discovered written by a guy calling himself goodhubby. It’s sometimes hard for me to get too invested in these (ironically) because they so frequently flare up, go like crazy for a bit, then fade away, but I like this guy. I like that, like me, he over-thinks spends a lot of time analyzing how denial is working in his head and his relationship.

The really interesting bit about his blog, though, it that’s it written by a top. This is an exceedingly rare combination, I think (at least in the blogosphere). I recall one blog a couple of years ago like that, but it went dark and was eventually deleted. In that case, the dom thought of chastity as an experiment and, I have to admit, wasn’t written so well that I actually got inside the head of the guy. All he really did was recount their sex, if I recall correctly. In the case of goodhubby, it sounds like his denial (and her control of his orgasms) is a somewhat permanent arrangement. This really turns a lot of preconceived notions on their heads. A top who is denied by the bottom. I look forward to reading more!

In a recent post, he keyed into something Belle and I discussed last night between our marathon talkfest and when she let me get her off.

What has changed, though, is that I no longer seem to see sex as a source, or vehicle, for reaching orgasm. I fully expect not to orgasm, when we have sex. I go into it devoid of that expectation of orgasm. Sex has become about NW’s pleasure (orgasms included), just like it always has. For me, though, it has become a time when my arousal, physically and mentally, will be carried to the very edge, but never released. The edge has become the ultimate goal, with respect to my pleasure, not the orgasm. In fact, despite the obvious want that is welled up, I am mentally averse to the idea of release.

That’s such a perfectly succinct way to put it. I have no idea how that works or what’s going on mentally or physically when that turn happens and the entire purpose of sex has been rewritten, but it’s profound (and, apparently, not necessarily related to submission).

The bit that aligned with what Belle and I talked about had to do with recalling the very first night I didn’t come after sex. I remember she came after I fucked her with the penis (that’s how it happened the majority of the time back then). I remember being in her and doing my usual thing letting her glow and resisting my urge to keep fucking until I came, but only out of deference to letting her enjoy the orgasm. I stayed in a little while longer and she let me fuck her a bit more, but eventually I had to withdraw. The incredible ache that induced in my chest as I pulled a perfectly good boner out of her pussy before it did what, at the time, I thought its job was had to be one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, especially since that was well before I think Belle really invested herself in keeping me denied. I pulled out and did not come on my own. She would have let me in a second. I remember laying on my back and she curled into me and stroked my armpit hair and tried to bring me down off the hormonal surge. The penis was cold and wet and hard for a long time and my heart was racing and all my senses were on edge. She, of course, fell asleep way before I did. All the next day I felt like I was on speed, but in a good way. I’d have to go back and look, but I think she let me come the next night. So I was denied for a whole 24 hours.

Now, of course, it’s totally different. The penis is no longer able to get her off and, horny or not, I get instantly sleepy once she comes (though that’s not the same as actually falling asleep). I very seldom think about the orgasm I’m not getting because there’s just no reason for me to have one. If I’m aware of anything, it’s that I always wish it took her longer to get there so I could enjoy her more. That longstanding and popular notion that orgasms are either a) required for the man, optional for the woman, or b) mutually assured, just doesn’t apply to us. The very definition of sex that I carried around for three decades is gone.

Belle used an interesting phrase to describe this. She say’s I’ve “nicely evolved” into what I am now. The implication that evolution leads to a superior form was not lost on me. It’ll be interesting to see how a top “evolves” in chastity to a submissive female. How they both evolve, actually.

Squeaky clean

Air travel stinks. I was talking to my coworkers as we flew back yesterday and one of them remarked that when she was young her family dressed up to fly. How it was such a big deal. Now, planes are nothing more than busses with wings. Endless charges for such luxuries as baggage and rude attendants and knees pushed up into your chin for three hours. Man, I’ve had it.

Anyway, I’m back home. Finally. Night before I left, even with a numb dick, I couldn’t fall asleep. It was a combination of being really horned up and having had a glass of iced tea with dinner. That little extra jolt of caffeine mixed with the hormones kept me up to four in the morning so I got maybe two or three hours of sleep. The tossing and turning went on so long, the feeling came back to the cock and in my delirious half sleep, half awake state, my hand found it again and again. I’d edge myself then control would come back and I’d roll over only to find my fevered brain reinserting all kinds of pornographic thoughts before me and the cock would swell and the whole thing would start over again. I knew that if I just came I’d likely fall asleep quickly, but I resisted the best I could. It was one of the hardest evenings of orgasm control I’ve had in a while. The barrier between pre and post orgasm was membrane thin and, by the time I pulled up and stopped stroking, I was leaking great quantities of ejaculate. I didn’t get the tingly sensation of orgasm and the thoughts and desires came back quickly enough for me to know it wasn’t an orgasm, but it was a very close scare. In the future, even if Belle lets me go to these things unprotected, I should probably bring the Steelheart along for those times I feel I’m losing control. When it’s in place, even if I hold my own key, the Rule of Law descends and my relationship with the cock changes completely.

Got home well after Belle went to sleep last night so I’m still free. I took the opportunity to clean out the Steelheart tube thoroughly this morning. I find that when I’m locked into it for weeks at a time (as I just was – essentially a month), a type of build-up appears at the end of the tube. It appears to be some kind of mineral-type stuff that I assume is left there by frequent contact with urine. It clings to the steel and can’t be cleaned out with soap and water, but I’ve found soaking the tube in a vinegar bath loosens it up enough that it can be wiped out.

I took the opportunity afterwards to take the above picture. I shows how tight things are in the end the tube with the PA fixing and 4 gauge ring. All that squished with the penis meat into a 2.5″ long steel cage. Time will tell when the meat is again so squished. Belle’s given me no indication when she wants it back in there.

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